


intertwined

by FabulousPotatoSister



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Touching, M/M, Slow Dancing, edit my dumb ass forgot a whole fucking quotation mark, i wrote this in comic sans but you'll never know that, this shit is so damn cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 19:24:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabulousPotatoSister/pseuds/FabulousPotatoSister





	intertwined

"Alfonse, I don’t need to be here.”

 

The prince glances at you, his eyebrow quirked up - he turns, smiles politely at a passing Hero, and then looks at you, still smiling, hands clasped behind his back in a manner you can only describe as “princely”.

 

“We can’t ignore the things you’ve done for the Order of Heroes and for Askr,” Alfonse says, turning his gaze to the crowd of Heroes that have gathered in the castle’s hall. “And it’s only fitting for our very own Summoner to be celebrated after so much hardship.”

 

The hall is lively and positively bustling with energy, the Heroes all chattering with each other and enjoying the food and drink prepared for the night. The light of the stars filters through the columns of the castle, while everything else is bathed in the golden glow of the many torches that line the wall. Soft music fills the air, provided by Askr’s most talented musicians, making the whole affair feel kind of like those medieval parties you used to see in fantasy shows, except you were  _ in  _ one.

 

Yeah, a celebration. 

 

It would be nice if you didn’t feel so awkward standing right next to Alfonse.

 

“Yeah,” you mumble. You let your hands bunch up in the fabric of your cloak. Nothing else was gonna save you from the panicked feeling in your chest. “I should probably go, y’know - I, uh, still have some strategies I need to review in the library.”

 

Alfonse tilts his head, something stirring behind his blue eyes. His very, very pretty blue eyes - “Is everything alright? Are you not enjoying the festivities?”

 

_ No, being around you is making it hard to breathe, thanks.   _ “Y-Yeah, I think I just need to get some fresh air.”

 

He looks over you, concerned - so that’s what it was - and steps forward. “I’d be glad to accompany you, if you’d like.”

 

“Oh, no thanks, I’d rather be alone,” you step backward and try to manage a smile, which probably ends up looking like something else judging by the face Alfonse gives you. 

 

Every step away from him feels both like sweet relief and your heart being twisted and wrung and left out to bleed. Which is probably bad, because walking away from someone shouldn’t feel - well -  _ bad _ , right?

 

Just as you feel like you’ve put some distance between yourself and the annoyingly handsome prince, the music changes from something upbeat to something softer, more slower, a little more intimate, and kind of romantic. You manage to find Sharena in the crowd and give her a suffering look, like:  _ you did this, didn’t you _ ?

 

Sharena does not look guilty at all. Thanks, Sharena.

 

With the change in music, a few of the Heroes have partnered up - with either their lovers or just people they care about - and the whole hall has quieted down, except for some conversation here and there. You spot Sharena, talking with Alfonse (who’s faced away from you) - she looks at you and gives you a very cheery thumbs up. 

 

_ Good luck,  _ she mouths. Then she spins Alfonse by his shoulders and gestures vaguely to where you’re standing, saying something else to him that you can’t hear. Alfonse’s not looking at her, just nodding along to what she has to say. He’s looking at you instead.

 

It doesn’t take long for Alfonse to catch up with you, because you didn’t walk very far from him and you were probably just being really overdramatic. He smiles at you, dazzling as usual, and heaves out a breath.

 

“Seeing as everyone else here is dancing,” he extends a hand. “Shall we?”

 

Your brain goes into overdrive just then. It’s not quieted when Alfonse takes your hand, or when he intertwines his fingers with yours, or when you realize he isn’t wearing gloves, or when he leads you to a quieter spot in the hall. Your buzzing thoughts grow even louder when Alfonse looks up at you through his eyelashes and says, “Will you teach me how to dance?”

 

“You’re a prince, I’m pretty sure you already know how to dance.”

 

“Yes, well - “ Alfonse bites his lip. “I’d like to know how they dance in your world.”

 

“I don’t think you wanna know,” you say, and he chuckles. “I have told you some weird things about my world.”

 

“Then I’d like to know how they dance in situations like this.” Alfonse brings your intertwined hands a little closer to himself. 

 

“I think it’d be the same -”

 

But Alfonse still smiles at you, and raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

 

“Fine,” you grumble ( _ but are you really complaining? _ ). ”Okay, uh, put your right hand on my left shoulder and uh - you can keep holding my hand.”

 

All your dance lessons in PE class have led up to this moment. Alfonse follows, and you do the opposite, bringing your left hand up to meet his right shoulder. God, you feel like a kid dancing with the cutest one in your class. But that’s exactly what this is. Except replace “class” with “castle” and “kid” with “prince”. 

 

You decide to lead, and Alfonse catches on pretty quickly. Soon, you’re waltzing around the hall, and you think you look perfectly normal among all the couples here. 

 

But then again, you feel like a kid dancing with the cutest classmate, so you’re naturally in that weird position where you don’t get really close to your partner and bend your arm so you don’t feel awkward. But you still feel awkward.

 

Just like with the dancing, Alfonse catches on, slowing down the waltz. “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” you mutter. It comes out strained. 

 

Alfonse doesn’t talk, lost in thought. His movements slow even more, and he begins to sway.

 

“You’re uncomfortable,” he says softly. “We can stop, if you’d like.”

 

Alfonse sighs, the corners of his lips still turned up in a half-smile. There’s contentment behind his blue eyes, and you notice that his hair isn’t as styled as he normally likes it to be. It’s looser, a little more tousled and a little more fluffy - it’s relaxed, a little like the blue shirt he’s wearing, probably the thing he wears under all his armor.

 

He’s  _ beautiful _ .

 

And he’s moving his arms towards your waist. 

 

Wait, what - ?

 

Alfonse lets go of your hand, takes his hand away from your shoulder, and moves them down, down, down,  until they rest on your hips. 

 

This leaves your arms and hands free, so you instinctively wrap them around his neck. Okay, maybe not a smart move, but it made you feel a little less weird, so that’s that. 

 

But,  _ wow,  _ Alfonse is  _ so close to you now.  _ Yeah, you’ve hugged in celebration and in victory, but this is so different, so much more than just celebration. It’s intimate in ways you don’t think words can describe.

 

And words definitely can’t describe it, because you are mentally keysmashing. 

 

Alfonse doesn’t say a word. He closes his eyes and  moves his arms again until they wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him, which makes your arms around his neck a little tighter. Your hands find their way into his hair, and they stay there.

 

“Alfonse..?” You’re not surprised when your voice comes out a little bit breathless. 

 

He just hums in response, his eyes still closed. 

 

“Nevermind, I’ll just,” your voice is so tiny now. “I’ll just let this happen.”

 

Alfonse opens his eyes, and you’re swimming in them, not yet drowning but not able to get out. “You’re alright with this?”

 

_ Definitely, of course -  _ “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, I’m alright with this.”

 

Alfonse blinks, slowly, and rests his forehead against yours. The mental keysmashing is now in all capital letters. He lets out a sigh of relief. “And this?”

 

His hair brushes against your forehead and you can feel his breath tickling your skin. And he’s so very close - how can you not be okay with this? ( _ On a side note, you said you weren’t drowning yet? You take that back. You’re pretty sure you’re drowning now _ .)

 

He moves his face just a little bit closer, so close that his lips are brushing against yours. Softer, barely audible, just a whisper, he murmurs, “...And this?”

 

The hall melts away, the party, the rest of the Heroes. It’s just Alfonse.

 

Oh, you wish he’d stop asking, because you are  _ so _ alright with all of this happening. 

 

And just as your eyes slide shut -

 

“Summoner! Brother!” Sharena’s bright voice rings out, and the two of your practically jump away from each other, jolting into a professional looking pose. Not looking like the two of you just did whatever  _ that  _ was in front of maybe the whole Order. 

 

“So glad to see you two together,” she chirps, looking totally innocent like she didn’t plan all of this, and then she throws a wink your way, confirming every single suspicion you’ve had since the beginning of the celebration. “The Heroes want you back now, Summoner. They’d like to say some words of gratitude.”

 

“Oh, of - of course,” you stammer, smoothing down the front of your cloak. “I’ll be right there.”

 

“You need to come too, brother,” Sharena practically coos, her gaze lingering on the way Alfonse has his arms around his back. “We can’t have the prince missing at our own celebration, right?”

 

“Sharena,” Alfonse warns, but his sister doesn’t seem to care. She makes her way through the crowd and disappears. 

 

There's an awkward silence before you grin. You’re giddy now, actually giddy. Who even says giddy anymore? “Well! I think I really have to go now.”

 

“As do I. I can’t say no to my dear sister.”

 

You stare at each other for a moment - no, stare isn’t the right word - you  _ gaze  _ at each other, because it probably isn’t staring anymore. You don’t think about how you’re gonna talk about this or how awkward the next days are probably gonna be. You’re just thinking of right now, of tonight, of him.

 

Alfonse breaks the silence. “If it helps,” he says warmly, “I think you deserve to be here.”

 

The way you look at him deserves a spot on a drama, because you’ve never directed this much affection into a smile before.

 

And he takes your hand in his, intertwines your fingers, and we'll - he's right. 


End file.
